


dream highway

by lacebacteria



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Angst, Blood, Blowjobs, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Humor, M/M, Plot Twists, Sort Of, Soulmates, blowjob, college student jaehyun, romantic blowjobs, scifi, spirit taeyong
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-11
Updated: 2018-04-11
Packaged: 2019-04-20 11:06:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14259612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lacebacteria/pseuds/lacebacteria
Summary: Jaehyun is a college student and Taeyong is a spirit who can’t stop his nose from bleeding.





	dream highway

**Author's Note:**

> yeeee this is my first non-porn without fic so feedback would be appreciated. this also isn’t thoroughly edited and some of the details related to the urban makeup of Seoul might not be entirely correct. But enjoy!

He sits frozen, unchanging, like the many stones that survived disaster. He wondered how such things lasted for so long. Jaehyun believed nothing could pass-by war—except those stones made into temples, or waning columns, that never forgotten sunset. 

The rain shelters the town like a bell jar, the overhang drooping into a puddle in the sky, and Jaehyun sits on the bench watching the world around him move like a time-lapse clip. He inspects the roof shingles of houses near the splattered edges of the neighborhood, waiting for the bus, which has surpassed its record of late arrival by ten minutes. The droplets pick up speed. He tries to coat himself with his two-sizes-too-big jacket, but part of him likes the submersion. 

“Dude!” He feels a pat on the shoulder, like a claw securing its fetch. “Today is the day.” The tall figure shifts behind Jaehyun to sit next to him on the bench. “Public transports really are disposable huh?” He tousles his black hair into his hoodie, and splays his arm around Jaehyun, pulling him closer until there is no breach. “The exams don’t start getting distributed until 10. We got about 90 minutes. We’ll be fine.” Jaehyun probably shouldn’t be mentally noting the heady smell of breakfast egg on Johnny’s tongue but he just can’t seem to get past the opaqueness of it, nor would it be the first time of telling Johnny that parts of him reeked. 

“I just need it to be over, and the downpour isn’t a good sign either.” He bites the inside of his cheek to apply more pressure to the knots recording in his body, while slumping his posture until he becomes unnoticeable to Johnny’s broad frame. He can’t help but think of some alternate scenario where he didn’t have to stress about an exam that determined the course of his future while being stuck in the marrow of torrential rain—maybe, he could be somewhere else, lying across hot grain with sun melting its ribbons on to his easily “burnable” body.In preliminary school, everyone would tease him how quick his ears waxed with red and how noticeably _pale_ he was, even in the crux of June. While everyone raved about his complexion, Jaehyun most certainly hated it. He felt it contributed to some ghost effect. Of course, this effect may have just been some hypothetical occurrence in Jaehyun’s brain, but he felt minimal to Johnny, especially at parties and any public setting really. Girls flocked toward him as if he had some stop sign wavered across his chest. Reflecting on it, yes, it did bother Jaehyun, but he wasn’t _that_ interested in girls anyway. 

“We are still slated for that party tonight?” Johnny asks. 

Jaehyun pends with hesitation. _Shit, he forgot._ “I…erm..will check my schedule.” 

“ _Schedule_?” Johnny clucks. “Since when did you become organizational?”

“Since last month,” Jaehyun responds, the rain now slowing down its weight. 

“Here,” Johnny reaches into his pocket to pull out, what appears to be stale, but not completely terrible, wrapped gum. “It helps stimulate your brain and shit so you can think better.” He throws one to Jaehyun to which Jaehyun reads the wrapper: Blue raspberry flavored. 

“I feel like its my obligation to ask—how long have you kept these?” 

“Does it matter?” 

“Yes, for the sake of my health,” he says, mildly sardonic. 

Johnny crinkles his eyes, a sign he’s thinking rather punitively. “Maybe, _maybe_ two weeks. Not quite sure.”

Jaehyun politely folds the gum into Johnny’s palm, “I’m good. Besides, I think mint would have been a better option than blue raspberry. The menthol helps stimulate the areas of the brain that deal with memory.” Jaehyun, despite only knowing finance and numbers his whole life, has a small arsenal for miscellaneous facts—perfect when needed. (Space facts are his favorite. He practically has Bettlejuice’s surface mass memorized)

“Ok human wikipedia,” Johnny slips the second piece of gum into his mouth, clacking his lips together to revel another taste. 

Jaehyun studies the pool of water laminating the streets; how they are passing through somewhere, perhaps the cracks in the pavement, or another place farther down hill and maybe, it might enter some body of water where the process is then repeated. Again and again. It takes several minutes before Jaehyun traces his eyes to the other side of the street. There is a small field and a few houses drowned in their own silhouettes, with a blemish of color that is dulled because of the rain. Then he sees a body: smogged, and flimsy. He couldn’t recollect the first glance, but by the second time he notices the boy is barefoot. His hair is black and disheveled, wearing a long sleeve shirt and loose fitted pants. He couldn’t see the boy’s eyes from his vantage point, but he knows something exists upon them, something black, something perceptive, and cosmic. And his nose is bulging with blood—like messy lipstick but instead it’s just _everywhere._

“Fuck!” Jaehyun’s body jolts like a moth witnessing an artificial light. “Do you see that?” 

“See what?” Johnny says. 

“That guy. Right there.” Jaehyun points ahead, the boy now a little closer. He can see the blood clearer—how _red_ it is —and yet, perhaps foolish is Jaehyun (slightly) thinking how someone could be so pretty while wearing _so much_ violence on their face. 

“Dude, I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Jaehyun breathes a bit heavier but Johnny makes sure to relieve it. “Look, its exam day. The bus is late. You practically sat through hell’s rain so it’s only your nerves getting to you.” He firms a grip around Jaehyun’s arm. “Just relax.” 

Jaehyun looks back, just to make sure its real—that the boy is real—that the boldness of it is real. He turns to see nothing. 

“The bus is here.” 

 

 

Jaehyun squints up at the clock, its position resembling a holy cross. He buries his head deeper into the fold of his arms, smearing against the desk. Only five more minutes. Five more minutes until it’s all over. He brings his head up once more to stare at the test booklet and then at the walls, and then slightly to the girl seated next to him who can’t stop flipping through the test pages. This is probably the quietest his life has ever been. 

 

“Pencils down,” the frail woman’s voice shoots through the large yet antiquated room. “When you make your exit make sure to put your information sheet on top of the test booklet.” Jaehyun exhales. “You are now excused.” He quickly plots his test materials onto the woman’s desk and leads himself into the hallways. By the stairwell he sees Johnny, languidly resting his frame on the railing, while on his phone. He must’ve gotten out early. 

 

“Hey man!” Johnny says. “So what’s the verdict? Am I looking at Seoul’s future #1 accountant?” _Do those things even exist_ , Jaehyun thinks to himself. 

“Maybe.” Jaehyun didn’t mind the entrance exam, it was just like everything else he has taken before. But the universe has a funny thing of pulling any odd card out of the deck. He knew beforehand the universe was never tender. “It was alright.” 

“Well look, you’re free until the results come out in the summer _and_ freedom calls for a celebration.” Johnny’s brows raise a little higher, insinuating something Jaehyun knows fully well. 

“I can’t. I just need to relax tonight.” He makes his way down the steps. 

“Oh c’mon! You’ve gotten so uptight the past couple of months. Just let loose.”

He sighs, “Not everyone is cool like you Johnny nor does everyone have the stamina to party everyday.” 

“Unfair shot!” He’s always so loud in arguments. “And I’m not even cool, I just happen to have really good connections.” He manages to sneak in front of Jaehyun, blinding him with his obscenely large head. “Besides, if we are being real here..the cool person is Taeil. He practically knows everyone in this damn university. He also parachuted in high school!” 

“Johnny, I don’t even know what that means.” Jaehyun walks past him, brushing shoulder to shoulder. 

“It means swallowing drugs,” Johnny lowers his voice and then even lower when he says: “like when they are crushed and you roll them in toilet paper.” 

Jaehyun peeves, “Taeil? Didn’t know he was that type of guy.” He pushes open the door to the outside and says again, “parachuting? Does his parents even know?” 

“It’s Taeil,” Johnny slaps on his hoodie. “He never tells them anything. Hell, I’m sure they don’t even know he’s going here.” 

They pass through the heavy intersection and then to the station where Johnny buys a bag of chips from the vending machine, and Jaehyun pulls out his portable agenda to double check whether he had any overnight shifts at the shop, while people nudge around him as attempts to get through the herds. Jaehyun is used to this so he obliges politely. He then serenely stands by one of the posts, closing his eyes just for a minute because he can’t seem to avoid another reverie. If he could, and if he was _allowed,_ he would sleep in this position. He could handle the noise, the loud conversations that peek through the rail squeals and yes, even Johnny crunching loudly on his chips while next to him. He could handle all of it.

“Let’s go,” Johnny says, nudging Jaehyun. “The bus is here.” 

He sighs briefly and then follows behind Johnny. His eyes catch a silhouette between two girls chatting to his right. It appears almost like a fade out, like some misplaced matter in the universe. It then ricochets into 

something visible. 

Jaehyun pushes his bottom palms into his eyes, rubbing them and looking back to make sure he isn’t dreaming. The boy hasn’t moved. 

“Jaehyun, the bus is about to leave!” Johnny calls out but Jaehyun remains seeded into _whatever_ someone would call this. A ghost interaction? A rip in the time warp? He didn’t have enough space in his head to think of an appropriate name, and the boy’s stare grows more black, estranged, desolated. Dark as soot. If there was a rip in the time warp it probably occurred in his eyes, Jaehyun thinks. He is also not sure as to why he grabbed the boy’s arm and ran all the way down to the station, near the restrooms with the boy not once putting up a fight. He stops to look at him, the blood waning from his nostrils. He finally has a better look of the boy’s face and notices the thin lips and scar near the corner of his eye. His hair is less black than previously imagined—more brown, brown-black. He also notices the slender arms that look like they can pass for wings—not like they were exactly wings, but there was some fragility behind them. 

“I’m not quite sure who you are or what you want from me,” Jaehyun breathes heavily, like he’s swallowing smoke right from the belly of a house fire, “but I would appreciate if you leave me alone.” 

“I-I-I can’t do that.” He says, flatly. 

“What do you _mean_ you can’t do that? And what are you anyway?” 

The boy doesn’t respond, instead he stares, once again, blankly as blood leaks from his nose. “I don’t know.” He repeats, “I don’t know.” 

Jaehyun grabs onto his arm again and brings the boy with him into the restroom. He pulls a few paper towels from the disposable and wipes the blood from the boy’s face. 

“Do you at least know why you’re bleeding?” Jaehyun asks as a moon of concern rises on his face.

“I always had that,” he responds, shyly. 

“Have you tried going to the doctor? Getting medicine?” He props the boy’s head higher so he can get a better look at his nose.

“No, they wouldn’t see me.” 

Jaehyun tosses the few towels into the trash and grabs more. “No insurance?” 

He lowers his head, “I mean they _couldn’t_ see me. No one can. Except for you.” 

“Wait..so you’re like..invisible?” 

“Yes.” 

Jaehyun hears his phone buzzing in his pocket. “Give me a moment.” He lies back on the counter and answers it. “Johnny, I’m fine. No, no I’m not crazy. Ok, look I’ll call you back in a moment I can’t speak right now.”Jaehyun takes a few seconds, recollecting his thoughts which are falling like a glass ceiling. “So, you’re invisible with a never-ending bleeding nose?” He chokes a laugh before growing anxious. “And you can’t stop following me..ok, then answer me this…do you at least have a name?” 

The boy doesn’t answer, he looks embedded in fear. Jaehyun thinks this fear may be a habit to him; the only thing he knows.

“My name is Taeyong.” 

_Ok so that makes two things that he knows._

“Taeyong..nice name. Mine is Jaehyun.” The blood grows larger and Jaehyun quickly plugs it with paper towels. “We may need to have an intervention. It’s Seoul, I don’t think I could remain composed with a guy following me around, looking like he got punched a few times in the face.” 

Taeyong responds but muffled: “Yes, you’re right.” 

“Can you at least control it?” 

Taeyong nods his head. 

“Ok, then control it right now.” Taeyong winces, rather hardly and then moves away from Jaehyun’s grasp. He sees Taeyong’s face in clearer complexion. No blood, except a few scars which he fails to ask him the source of those wounds. “Perfect.” He trails, “So..I guess since no one can see you and you obviously can’t leave me alone..how about you come home with me. I’ll keep you in my room and we’ll just discuss rules and stuff later.” Again, Taeyong nods his head. Jaehyun picks up on the fact the boy might be short of a few words but his eyes always seem to do the talking instead—how big and angel-like they are as if they were passages to something more expansive like space or maybe, a purgatory.

They walk outside into the city burned with grey streaks in the sky and a fuzzy atmosphere as if the city lived in one giant cloud, on its own and weightless. Jaehyun calls a taxi to drive them out into the suburbs where he lives with his mom. Taeyong remains silent, his frame rather close to Jaehyun as they enter the house—fairly modern, a few paintings aligned on walls and a nice yellow sofa to stand out from a largely monotone room. 

“My mom won’t be home until the next hour or so. Just make yourself comfortable and _don’t_ touch anything.” 

“I won’t.” Taeyong says, assuringly. 

Jaehyun treads upstairs, leaving Taeyong in the center of the living room with his worn out clothes contrasting to the suede furniture and gold antiques filed in a transparent, glass cabinet. A couple minutes later, he can hear the shower running and the pipes pulsating in the walls. Taeyong carries himself to the picture rail near the dining room table, seeing frames of Jaehyun in various ages—from when he was little in floats by the pier to when he was a bit older and playing football with companions and more recently dressed in graduation garb with his mother by his side, carrying a bouquet of flowers. He thinks of them happy. Yes, that’s the only word he can think offor now. 

He heads upstairs, just outside the bathroom in the narrow hallway. He can hear the water and the steam building up by the looks of the unsealed door. The door is also not completely shut—just a tad bit opened and the gap is enough for Taeyong to measure with curiosity. Not again, he thinks. He relives the feeling all over again. The wary ankles, the short breaths, the blushed cheeks that embarrasses the inner parts of him. He knows the feeling of restriction, and very well the feeling of compression. He’s used to just shrinking things down until they don’t exist anymore, but he knows they never go away. They never do. He grows closer to the gap, angling his head to get a better glimpse of Jaehyun’s silhouette in the curtains. Before growing smaller in distance, his nose rushes. He’s so tired of the damn thing. Always bleeding in the most important times. He uses his shirt to cover it, and rushes down to the first floor, back on the couch, pretending nothing happened. Jaehyun is gonna yell at him again. He probably thinks of him as a freak. I mean he’s not even a living thing so the privilege of normalcy was never offered to him in the beginning. The shower stops and so does the blood. He looks at the stain, now becoming a bit dry. It doesn’t stay wet for long but maybe he likes the look of it. You know, the sign that maybe he is a bit human after all. 

Shortly after, Jaehyun emerges. In a typical t-shirt and corduroy pants. His hair is a bit damp with loose light brown curls. He looks at Taeyong a little less frightened. Maybe he’s getting used to the idea of him.

“While I was showering I was thinking of potential rules. I came up with a few.” He sits next to Taeyong. “So, I understand the circumstances are very abnormal and I need time to adjust to whatever _this_ is _.”_ He pauses briefly and then says: “so, you will be staying in my room but on the other side. I can maybe lay down a few sheets and that can be your bed. First things first I need you to _not_ have constant nosebleeds. Frankly, I’m a bit petrified of blood and it does get quite the mess. Second, I need you to cause the least amount of disturbance in my life as you possibly can.” Yes, Taeyong knows the feeling very well. “Third, you can’t leave my room unless I say so. I’m still not sure of what you are and what threat you pose so, I guess you will stick to just being by my side 24/7 but _also”_ he raises his finger, “I need space. I can’t have you down my throat..this explains theliving distance. Remember, other side. No cuddling” 

“I’m not a big cuddler. Touching people freak me out,” he says. 

“Yeah I feel that too.” He agrees and then focuses on Taeyong’s face, not sure as to how he got it so symmetrical. “Anyway, I don’t know if you prefer a tour or—”

“No, its fine. Like you said..I’ll be as little of a disturbance as much as I can.” He promises on this very fact. 

“Alright, well erm..I’m gonna be in my room just laying around. You should probably come along so we can get the bed situation figured out,” Jaehyun suggests in an orderly tone. “C’mon,” he leads Taeyong up to his room, which is cleaner than most adult men in their 20s. Rather white too. Jaehyun considers himself a fan of minimalism with few succulents on the windowsill 

“I have some blankets in the closet,” he pulls out a quilt and loose sheets. “We can maybe..” his eyes scan the slotted space, “this can do! He picks the area near the window but quite a distance away from the bed where the blue rug sets in the middle. “Do you like the sun?” 

“No, I’m more of a storm person.” 

“Really?” Jaehyun can’t complain but storms are just very…inconvenient. “Any particular reason why?” 

Taeyong sits on the question a bit and responds: “I like to sleep in the middle of violence, violence that I’m far-removed from.” 

Jaehyun pats down the quilt until its set to good comfort. “But what if.. a large hurricane decides to hit. Are you far-removed from that?” 

“Obviously not.” He says. “But, I don’t know, I kinda like the noise. It’s like how people say the Earth has its own sounds. I think of storms as Earth’s form of heavy metal.” 

Jaehyun chuckles, “I’m curious then, what would Earth’s form of pop be?” 

“Not sure…ocean waves?” 

Jaehyun thinks on it too. “Hm, I think I would rather associate ocean waves to classical music. You know, considering people find them both soothing.” 

“Maybe.” Taeyong mumbles. 

“Ok, your bed is all set. Let me get you some pillows.” Jaehyun reaches a few spares on his bed and lays them on Taeyong’s spot. “Check if it’s comfortable.” 

He splays his frame across the blankets, moving his limbs around to see if it aligns to his liking. “It’s good.” 

Jaehyun brings his hand into a clap and relaxes on his desk chair. The awkward ambiance sets in, almost like a purposely odd nail in the wood. Jaehyun diverges this quiet yet audibly loud silence by pulling out a notebook and pretends to scribble a list of some sort. Taeyong sits in a crouched position—he always had a terrible posture, and he minds his own. He knows Jaehyun wants him to be little as possible, like a dot on the wall, or smudged ink writing, blurred out until it looks out of memory or underwater. He feels something for Jaehyun, and he felt this way ever since upon keeping watch of him last May. It’s been five months during that lapse, and yet every time it feels like the first. His nostrils perk up, twitching but Taeyong squeezes his nose before rupture. 

“Jaehyun,” he says, lightly. He shrivels in embarrassment, the blood already dripping down to his lips. The embarrassment hurts like a fang and he cries into that little spot. He’s already breaking his own promise. 

“Shit,” Jaehyun grabs a rag lying around his night stand, and presses it down on Taeyong’s nose. “I thought you said you could control it?” He can’t see past the tears as they swell Taeyong’s already large eyes. 

Taeyong shakes his head, grabbing onto Jaehyun’s arm, the same one keeping the rag in place. 

“I’m sorry,” he drawls. Jaehyun can’t yell, even if he wanted to. He knew it would be harder to control whatever Taeyong had going on. There was so much of the boy that seemed limited to understand. 

“It’s okay.” He pushes back the few bangs that cover a portion of Taeyong’s eyes, which now look like glass. “It’s okay,” he says once again. He releases the rag, the blood more brownish than red. Taeyong regains his stance, making sure to breathe even though that breathing is just a mirage, and his entire existence, right now, is filled with a half-truth. Half because he is (technically) alive but also (pragmatically) dead. He still had the scars from the breakage. The scar on his thigh from the bumper still ached, still burned, and he is not sure if it formed into some peculiar shape like the rest on his body. 

“Do you mind if I sleep?” Taeyong asks. 

“Of course not.” Jaehyun moves the blanket underneath Taeyong. “Get some rest.” He tucks him in, securing his body from all angles before getting another fitted glance of his face. There was something furtive about him—how his eyes plunged with blackness yet were perhaps the brightest things he ever saw. Jaehyun still wonders of this fact. 

 

It’s the middle of the night and Jaehyun cozies his head on the pillow while little buzzes, signaling as texts, try their hardest to disturb him. Four notifications from _Johnny._

 

(1:00) _Dude I think someone just passed out in the pool. Idk if I should wake them up?_

(1:15) _Lol nvm some guy just decided to leave his sex doll unattended_

(1:30) _Live from SATURDAY NIGHT itsssss the Johnny is fucking drunk show!!_

(1:40) _Please answer me. I’m lonely and a gemini moon..I need conversation to survive PLEASE_

 

Jaehyun sends him a few emojis. He glazes over to Taeyong; still fast asleep with his face toward the wall. He can only see the back of his head and the scar on his neck which runs longitude. His chest doesn’t rise, and this makes Jaehyun anxious. _Is he dead?_ The anxiety thoughts rush in herds, leading him to stand above Taeyong, deciding whether or not he wants to find out for himself. He grasps him, shaking the limbs like wind chimes. 

“What’s wrong?!” Taeyong awakens, his eyes are more lighter this time. Jaehyun can see the faint white and a hint of blue. “Jaehyun, what’s wrong?” 

Jaehyun gulps and says: “I thought you were dead.” His hand strokes across Taeyong’s frame—he’s tiny. “You weren’t breathing.” He continues on. “I know you said you’re invisible, but are you like—”

“Like what,” he says, rather defensively. 

“Dead? A zombie? A ghost? Like what _exactly_ are you?” He pleads. 

Taeyong’s mouth hangs open; he’s about to say something but nothing sticks the landing. Until he looks downward and says, “Somewhat.” He brings those eyes to Jaehyun, and he doesn’t react. His curls are messy, but Taeyong finds it cute. His lips are flatlined. “I’m dead..somewhat but not entirely.” 

“What do you mean..not entirely?” 

“Like, I’m still here aren’t I?” He touches his face to exemplify his point. “But not physically, except to you.” 

“So when did you—”

“Two years ago.” He nods, feeling the swell from his stomach, from his throat and eyes. “I was arguing with my mom. It happened quite often, you know..the arguments. It got to the point it happened everyday. It was the first Monday of April and things kinda escalated.” He wavers, “can we talk about it some other time? Please.” 

Jaehyun accepts. “Yeah, sure.” Taeyong eyes fall back to blackness as he tucks himself into position, resting his head on the pillow and Jaehyun sits by the bedside, watching him until he becomes fast asleep like once before. 

 

 

 

It’s morning. Jaehyun is at work and of course, he brought Taeyong along. Jaehyun works at a cafe near a busy street. Customers flock throughout all hours of the day. He works on pastries and then as a part-time barista. Taeyong waits at a separate table, all the way to the corner near the windows. Jaehyun looks over to him, rather periodically, throughout his shift. Each time, Taeyong doesn’t move—he stares forward with his hands on his lap. He wants to go over there and feed him, talk to him, and he’s not sure if that indicates some attraction—of course _not,_ he’s a _spirit_. Jaehyun would consider himself foolish if he started to picture some future with a person that is dead but somehow.. _isn’t_? 

Spirit problems aside, Jaehyun sees Johnny and Taeil enter side by side, both wearing bulky rain jackets and jeans. Jaehyun moves some plates and silverware to the backroom where the sink is and then meets with them by the register. 

“Hello, how can I help you today?” 

“Yeah I need a pick me up.” Johnny says, his eyes droopy with the black crop of his unruly hair falling over them. “Got wasted,” he says quietly so the other customers couldn’t hear. 

“Yup, I saw your texts. Maybe the party boy needs a time out.” He smiles, picking up a plastic cup to which he writes Johnny’s name on the front. 

“It was not as bad as the fall party though,” Taeil says. 

“Please don’t remind me..or to him,” Johnny points at Jaehyun. “Besides, feelings were all over the place. Everybody finishing their exams, end of semester—“

“You kissing a boy,” Taeil interrupts. 

Jaehyun’s lips part, “A _what_?” He makes time to look at the line, which is growing increasingly impatient. “My break is about to start so just tell me the rest of your order so we can talk about it at one of the tables.” 

“Banana nut muffin and a mocha with whip cream,” Taeil says, moving the honey-brown hair from his eyes, hands resting in his hoodie pockets. 

“Hey dude you mind sharing that muffin, actually?” Johnny asks. 

“If you’re hungry just order one yoursel—”

“So two banana nut muffins, ice coffee and mocha ok I’ll have that out shortly,” Jaehyun says, his smile fully luminous. The two sit at a table near the center of the store, tapping fingers on the wood and then, strolls along Jaehyun with their order in hand. 

“So what exactly happened last night?” Jaehyun probes, his fingers holding firm the handle of a coffee mug. Johnny and Taeil speak at the same time, like two cars rushing toward an intersection. They stop and look at each other and then, Johnny decides to start. 

“So, there’s this guy I’ve been crushing on..” His words trail and those soft round cheeks blush like spring tulip bulbs. “I’ve been crushing on him for a while and we just hit it off at the party,” Johnny says. “But we promised to keep things..down low.” 

“Making out in the middle of the living room is _not_ keeping things down low,” Taeil counters. 

Johnny sighs, “Ok big head, so maybe we got a bit wasted and decided to make out but luckily _everyone_ was wasted too so we didn’t stand out that much. Thankfully.” He lays back on the chair, his frame more relaxed. “And he’s a nerd, you know part of the upper division of really smart kids. Loves to read everyday and I mean _everyday—_ we are talking about maybe 4000 books he reads within half a year? The man is devoted. And he’s also really good at organization. But besides being so smart he never makes me feel stupid. Ever.” 

“You’re not stupid, Johnny.” Jaehyun says, assuringly. 

“Dude, I really am. I didn’t even take my entrance exam.” Johnny admits, hopelessly. 

Taeil doesn’t say anything. Jaehyun, on the other hand, despite falling to a steep silence, extends his hand for Johnny to hold. They’ve been friends since high school and Jaehyun always had this stoic image of Johnny—the boy who always had people on his side, the boy that partied fast, the boy who cracked jokes with a killer shot of a smile on display and not to mention _tall._ He constantly stood out in crowds and maybe this is what made him so gravitational. He was a magnet. Jaehyun always dreamed of being Johnny. _Why can’t I be outgoing? Why can’t I be the star boy?_ Right now, he didn’t want to be Johnny. For the first time, he felt sorry for him. For the first time, he finally knew what it was like to be on the opposite end of the stick, and it made him even more grateful for Johnny. 

“It’s gonna be okay. Do your parents know?” Jaehyun asks.

“No. I haven’t told them yet,” Johnny says, his arm propping his face in palm. “But it’s my fault, you know? I didn’t even bother to show up at the exam site.” 

“Yeah that’s true,” Jaehyun says. “But it doesn’t mean that your life is over, it just means you will be a few months behind.” 

“They are gonna be offering another test in the summer anyway. You just gotta tell your parents,” came Taeil’s voice. 

“Two grumpy middle age entrepreneurs who want their son to graduate with top honors and hopefully work at the biggest business companies in the country would probably disown my ass if I told them I chickened out on an entrance exam.” Johnny exhausts, cradling his jaw in one hand while the other holds onto the coffee cup. 

“No they won’t,” Jaehyun insists, momentarily looking at Taeyong who is only a few tables back. He’s been looking at Jaehyun this whole time. 

“Anyway, enough about me I’ll figure out my shit eventually. What about you? You’ve been acting really strange, especially at the station.” Johnny is fast to add. 

_How convenient_ , Jaehyun thinks. “I told you I’m fine.” 

“ _Fine?_ You’ve been swearing up and down that you’ve been seeing some guy who’s not even there. It sounds like losing your mind to me.”Johnny retorts, skepticism knotted in his voice. 

Jaehyun doesn’t respond, instead he glances back at Taeyong, his lips growing pinker, more pinker than the _actual_ living. As a matter of fact, Jaehyun has forgotten that Taeyong is (technically) dead. Partly, because he doesn’t want to believe the ‘living dead” is a concept and also, he doesn’t want to lose Taeyong to the uncertainties of his “death” condition. It’s been barely 24 hours — he thinks — but time shouldn’t be used to measure feelings anyway. How to measure something so symbolic with numbers seems crazy even to Jaehyun, a man who has spent almost a lifetime with them. Numbers measure stocks, lifespans, fuck even space. Right now, numbers don’t apply and the fact that he is falling for a spirit means logic doesn’t apply either. _Just go with it. The rest will fall into place_. A motto by Johnny himself. 

“Fuck, we gotta head out.” Taeil interjects. “Mark’s basketball match is in 30 minutes and I promised we be there.” 

“The guy from first year? Friends with a _freshman_? Am I gonna find out your friends with the President next week?” Johnny says, jokingly. 

“Maybe,” he cheekily replies. 

Johnny pats Jaehyun on the back, right before heading out with Taeil and immersing with the passerby of Seoul, crushing the cold air underfoot. 

 

 

Later that night, Jaehyun is stuck at his desk space, scrolling through pinned emails in a separate folder entitled: IMPORTANT NOTICES. There is nothing truly important in this folder but it is the mirage of being orderly that satisfies Jaehyun’s inner ego. Taeyong, as usual, is by his side of the room, muted and shadowed. 

“I have plans for tonight,” Jaehyun’s voice creeks through this shared but estranged liminality between the two. 

“Exciting,” Taeyong says. “Is it with those two guys from earlier?” His head raises. 

Jaehyun’s finger moves from the mousepad and turns. “No,” he pauses momentarily, “its with you.” 

If words could synthesize how Taeyong has felt the past couple of months it would be: gaseous. Being dead is airless, without matter, archiving yourself in a world that no longer belongs to you. He felt this way parading the streets and hunting out the distant yards to keep watch of Jaehyun the past summers ago. But among this minute, he is _solid—_ the first time in a while. Not only that but he feels whole, electric, and bound. He even questions the offer with “Really?” To which Jaehyun confirms with a lopsided smirk—his favorite. 

“We are gonna go moon sighting. She’s the most prettiest during this time of year.” 

Taeyong has never seen the moon or otherworldly things,something he regrets during the late nights with his head rested on the pillow. But now that he, himself, is _otherworldly_ he gladly accepts. 

“I’d love to go moon sighting with you,” he laughs—its a minimal laugh, one peaking right through the surface but loud enough for Jaehyun to catch it and smile back. 

“Alright, well get ready—we are leaving in about ten minutes.” 

Taeyong graces a bemused look. _Get ready? Poor boy doesn’t even have clothes._

_“_ Make sure to catch!” Jaehyun says quickly before throwing an outfit to Taeyong’s direction, which haplessly plops right on his head. He looks to see a classic plain shirt and denim jeans. 

It takes him only about ten minutes to get ready, in part because he has always been low maintenance with his looks, despite the compliments of being one of the most eye-catching in Korea. But he had a premature idea those compliments were to only balance the fact he had no friends, except one kid who only kept up with during the weekends. Jaehyun doesn’t fix himself up that much either—a few adjustments to his curls and shirt collar and he is ready to go. He promptly grabs his camera and Taeyong’s hand before heading out the door. They walk through the mild swamp (mild because the cold has devastated the thick humidity and left trees in the form of crinkled branches, clinging to the bare wetness), and end their venture in a half cropped land, one tree fully grown and surviving the winter brute located near the dismal lake. The blue-toned moon hangs in the horizon like tapestry, with blankets of white ribbons shedding among the skyline. Jaehyun was right, it is beautiful—earth-shattering beautiful. Taeyong’s eyes become full of it and luckily his eyes are big enough to substitute as miniature versions of moons, or at least Jaehyun thinks so. 

“I’m a bit jealous we only have one moon. She’s so beautiful, imagine if we had sixty-nine like Jupiter?” His voice raises like a child—he’s quite passionate about moons. 

“True but there’s also no life on Jupiter.” Taeyong doesn’t say this to be negative of course, but stating the obvious. 

“I’m not quite too sure of that. If spirits exist I’m sure extraterrestrial life does too.” He moves the camera into photo-taking position and then says: “I think we have a very _earthly_ perspective of life,” he presses the button near the front and a few flashes go off. “Even before meeting you I had some instinct that there was more out there, you know? It’s so vast it would be almost selfish to think otherwise.” He moves a few lateral steps closer to Taeyong. 

“You have a point. You actually always have a point—you’re quite restless,” Taeyong admits, afraid to gravel Jaehyun. 

“It’s the benefit of being a finance student and justifying yourself to people everyday,” he pauses. “Which, honestly, I’m _so_ tired of,” he exhausts a dilapidated laugh. “In the field you always have to be ready to present, which is odd because everyday you’re punching in numbers but I guess to get an internship you have to show yourself a certain way like, the not-real you and I’ve already been doing that the first quarter of my life. So, I’m not quite sure if I can do it for even another two years.” 

“Are you thinking about quitting finance?”

“No,” Jaehyun says with rash certainty. “But I just wish things were different.” He looks back up at the moon. “Isn’t she pretty?” Jaehyun says, at this point he might as well be flirting with the moon by himself. 

Taeyong giggles, “You call the moon ‘she’ a lot..is there a reason?” 

“Please, something that beautiful doesn’t deserve to be compared to a man, or any men for that matter,” Jaehyun says, his pale skin bathed in blue-white. 

“You seem rather in love with her,” Taeyong observes, his hands delving into the two available jean pockets. “Maybe you should ask her out?” 

Jaehyun snorts, “Please, the farthest I’ll go with her is maybe, _maybe_ holding her hand.” 

Taeyong becomes puzzled, “Why wouldn’t you ask her out? Nervous?” This is the most Jaehyun has seen Taeyong be cheeky and _warm._ He forgets him as otherworldly and a spirit altogether. Right now, he is just Taeyong as they stand only millimeters in separation. “Because one, the moon is an animate object who can not respond to my actions,” he feels the need to bite his tongue, waiting for the words to pour out for the next one, “and two..I like boys.” Without permission from Taeyong or the moon herself, Jaehyun latches onto the boy’s hand, enveloping his fingers with Taeyong’s. “It’s only been a day and yet, I feel some certain way about you. It’s weird,” his face starts to sink in strange. “Is this suppose to happen?” 

“I don’t know. But I’ve felt the same when I first saw you,” Taeyong murmurs, his dead gut somehow aching with his nose bulging in pressure. When he senses it drip, he tries to catch the blood with his wrist but Jaehyun stops him. 

“Your nose..does it bleed when you get excited? Like is this your dead-form of a boner?” Jaehyun tilts Taeyong’s head upward with his hand. He loves to see his eyes and hates it when Taeyong takes the measures of hiding his gaze. In fact, Jaehyun just might feel partially possessive of Taeyong’s eyes at this point. 

“Well, I get boners too..so..um..” Taeyong stammers on his words. 

“Have you been with a guy before?” 

“No..well.. half-been with a guy.” 

“Oral?’

Taeyong nods his head.

“Did you like it?” 

Taeyong nods his head again. 

Jaehyun registers these responses before kissing through the blood on Taeyong’s lips, which is an odd damp between the breaths and creates another layer of dynamic romanticism. Jaehyun can’t help but be touchy with Taeyong—he’s not sure why but he’s so infatuated with him, and though it may sting (since this is the first time he’s been romantically charged with a guy in such a short time), he doesn’t mind. He keeps going, pushing onto Taeyong further and bringing him, until their symmetries are one. “I’m gonna go down on you, okay?” Jaehyun says, matter-of-factly. 

“Right here? Outside?” Taeyong’s pulses feel like a commuting system; they are diverting in all directions, but he can feel them separately, which is weird because—he is dead. But maybe this might mean something. Maybe he really _is_ only half-dead. 

“Yes, right _here._ Don’t worry, no one passes by here especially during the winer.”

“But..but the moon.” 

“What about it?” 

“She wouldn’t approve of the cheating.” Taeyong muses and shortly curves to the touch of Jaehyun’s hands around his waist. 

“I frankly don’t care” he leans in, wholly, to feel Taeyong’s lips again and this time he sneaks in a few grabs; some near the ass, others by the waist band. Taeyong writhes through all this, his frame sunken by Jaehyun’s broader one as he clutches around his neck. 

 

He doesn’t want him to _stop._

 

Jaehyun manages to move his lips from Taeyong and onto the scars that scatter multifariously throughout his face and body. “This may sound stupidly poetic,” Jaehyun whispers like flame, “but you’re so beautifully _wrecked_.”He cups Taeyong’s face and returns back to the patterned kisses and then moves downward, planting a few on his neck and then chest when Jaehyun raises his shirt to expose (no shocker) even more scars. He begs to ask why, but he doesn’t want the moment to sour, in fact he wants everything to go smoothly as possible—he wants to make Taeyong shriek and have him remember the way his hands feel so he can always crave having them back, roaming across his frail body. He tugs at his waistband while palming Taeyong through the fabric, looking up to see him flooded with blue hues that leads Jaehyun to mistake him as nebula. 

Jaehyun confirms, “You do get boners.” His voice splinters like a creaking hum and then fades into a laugh as he unzips Taeyong’s pants. 

“C-can you start slowly?” Taeyong requests, his ankles watering away firmness. 

“Yes. And can you relax for me? Please?” 

Taeyong nods his head as his lips zip into a pout. During this time, Jaehyun already has Taeyong around his mouth, slowly taking him in—gently and then building up the pace. Taeyong flinches through the rush but is stopped by Jaehyun’s grasp. The blood drips onto the top of Jaehyun’s head but he doesn’t mind—he’s recognized this as Taeyong’s thing and he’s too busy giving soft licks and kisses to Taeyong’s most intimate parts. And the moon acts as all knowing—if anything, Jaehyun would choose to expose all his sins to her, which is why every sexual thing he has _ever_ done with a boy occurred at this parceled land, all faded at the roots. He begins to thinks less of this as he pops his lips, sucking on Taeyong’s dick further while he yelps and urges him to go faster. Taeyong’s stance waxes with oscillation as he makes sure Jaehyun takes all of him until his body is glossed with aftershocks. When the moon dims its blueness and passages to a full white, Taeyong releases in Jaehyun’s mouth, the fervor-like pressure abating to a nothingness. He is back to coldness as the blood dries with the tundra-like air. Like that, he is reminded what he is not..but he enjoys the moon watching over them—protecting them and perhaps understanding why Jaehyun fancies it. 

“Did you like it?” Jaehyun asks, swiping the bit of cum off his bottom lip with his index. Taeyong quickly re-buttons his pants, sagging his frame until his head rests in the crook of Jaehyun’s chest. 

“Yes..I enjoyed it so much.” Jaehyun hugs him, providing warmth for the both of them and enough light to provide back to the moon…as a small thank you gift. 


End file.
